


To Leave It This Way

by Dextra2



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AU, Child Abuse, Death, Murder, Panic Attacks, mentions of heavy drinking, sucks to be canada
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-04 10:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1775110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dextra2/pseuds/Dextra2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1775, America lost the Revolutionary War. Years later, Canada has to be strong and make sure what happened on the fateful day never happens again. However that may prove to be harder since Britain is becoming more and more controlling. Maybe Canada's dear brother had the right idea after all..?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this will make way more sense if you read "To End This Way" by Ersatz Writer. This is continuation of their fic, and I was given permission to write this. You should probably read the other fic because it WILL explain background information. Also, you should thank my tumblr followers. (This is also kinda a present for them.) I don't own Hetalia. (Or this idea really.)
> 
> Warning: Some readers may feel triggered by: Child abuse, mentions of heavy drinking, somewhat detailed panic attacks, murder, and England's eyebrows.

Brothers were suppose to stay together. They were suppose to protect each other. Still, in the end that rule couldn't stop fate. In the beginning, Canada and America were brothers. Then the revolt happened...

_"Why shouldn't I do something?" The American asked the stranger standing there. "There's no way I can pay why Iggy wants. So I'll just point that out and everything will go back to normal."_

_"By throwing tea into the harbor? I understand that you're having trouble with the taxes, but is this the way to be asking for them to stop? Brother, this idea of yours is insanity." The other man shook his head slowly. "It's not going to end well for anyone. You may be his favorite, but he'll be more then glad to make an example of you."_

_"You shouldn't be so worried, Canada. Once Britain realized how serious I am, he'll understand." The ghost of a smile seemed to flicker in the warm candle light. "However you should leave. As much as I want you to stay, I don't want you to be caught up in my problems."_

Both boys knew that outside the wood walls, they would never breath a word of what happened on that night. Not when Britain pulled his troops out of the American colonies.

_The heavy cabin door slammed open, the night surrounding the man like a cloak. "I came as soon as I could. You have no idea how lucky I am, do you? Do have any idea how upset our brother is with you? He's been keeping an eye on me, thinking that I want to be part of whatever the Devil you're doing!" He shivered and shook, for it was a chilly night, and he was seething in anger._

_The other man stood up by from the desk. He was a mirror image of the man who stood before him. "I thought you decided to renounce me also, Canada. Thank the Heavens that you didn't." America said simply, with his shoulders sagging and dark circles under those once blue eyes._

_"You are still my brother, and England is still both of ours. You should do well to remember that." Canada's tone was sharp, cutting straight to the point. "And you would do well to get more sleep while you're at, eh? You look like Death itself. And when was the last time you ate a warm meal?" He fretted over the other colony and then wrapped his arms around his brother in a loving hug._

_America sank into the warm embrace. "I didn't want this to happen. But I think I know how to fix this ungodly mess." He returned the hug, and then stood up straight. "One of my people had an idea. We're forming a group of men, one that will talk to Parliament and the king to help reach a compromise. We even have a name for it. We're going to call it the Continental Congress." He grinned, the kind of grin that looked like it came from a place of broken dreams and the madness of desperation._

_"It's going to work Brother, it has too." The northern man bit his lower lip and wondered if his dear brother could hear the lie in his voice. "I'm sure that our brother will be most acceptable to the proposal." Thankfully, the fireplace was dim, and needed more fuel. Otherwise, America might have seen past a facade that he normally would haven't believed if it was daylight._

Needless to say, England was not open to negotiations. Then there was a revolt. Canada stayed out of it until the very end. He tried to hard to avoid the family squabble, only to have Britain order the unthinkable.

It would be raining; the year would be 1775.

Death was everywhere, and America was going to die.

_"Come back with me America." England murmured and knelled down the to fallen nation. "You can still be my little brother. You can still be part of my Empire." He offered his hand out, the two meeting eye to eye. "I won't punish you... I promise." Canada had to strain his ear to hear the last part, and he was sure he misheard something._

_His brother was on the ground, with mud and blood ruining what was once a pristine outfit. For a moment, it looked like America would say yes. Then everything would be alright, and all would be well._

_But alas, America had a country's dignity. "Never!" He spat out, using the last of his strength to have his weak, shaking arm slap away his life._

_Canada found himself taking a sharp breath inwards, like the other colonies Britain had called upon when France joined in. (But France had leave, and for that second betrayal, Canada would never forgive him.) But he was the only one praying he wouldn't start crying now._

_England stood up, and looked down on America. "England..." America whispered, perhaps for forgiveness, perhaps not. Either way, the empire paid no heed to it. He walked back to him army, and gestured for Canada._

_"Do it quickly." Canada couldn't go against such a order, and certainly not at that moment. So, he raised his musket, aimed it at his twin's chest. His hands shook, he blink a tear out. Hopefully no one would notice it from the rain._

_American's eyes widened. Those eye which were once so happy and innocent. But now those eyes were so dull and lifeless. Canada flinched, his fingers tightening around the trigger..._

_**BANG!** _

It takes a nation to end another nation's life. Canada never could remember what happen next, but Scotland told him everything. About how Canada fell in front of the corpse and cried while cradling it like a babe, about how it took Ireland and Scotland to tear the dead nation away from the colony's arms, and about how the said colony screamed and fought like an animal against anyone who tried to even touch the body. (Ireland had two nasty black eyes to prove.)

Scotland also told him that Britain never looked backed, not even when the musket was fired. Once Britain turned around and started to walk away, he never turned back. That was when Canada promised himself that he would avenge his brother.

_"One day Brother... I promise you that..."_

~~~Line break~~~

"Canada, I want to talk to you." The emerald eyed man waltzed into the study. It was a simple study, just a desk, bookshelf, and a few chairs in the large room, giving it an airy feel to it. "Is this a good time?" A polite way to demand to give Britain his fullest attention and stop whatever he was doing, mused Canada.

"Of course Britain. Why wouldn't it be?" Canada put down the papers he was going over and gestured to the seat in front of him. "What is it would would like to discus?"

"I'm planning to change a few things with my colonies. First off, we're going to need to make an agreement on taxes." Britain cut straight to the point, ignoring the usual formalities. "Then..." He hesitated, then recollected himself and smiled. "Well chap, we'll just cross that bridge when come to it, eh?"

Canada nodded. "Of course, Brother." He replied, with all emotion drained from his face. Come to think of it, that was Canada's main expression for the past few days. Ever since the funeral at least. "There's nothing I don't trust you with. So I beg of you to do the same." Starring straight into Britain's eyes, and allowing a miniscule smile to be made, Canada lied in a marvelous way.

"Of course I trust you, Canada. It's not like you'll ever attempt to revolt like some people, now is it?" Britain asked, meaning for the question to cut as deep as it did. Canada wondered if it hurt him to say it as much as it hurt himself. "Now, with America gone, I need more money for Parliament. So, instead of having one or two bear most of it like before, I want someone to help me divide it up evenly between everyone."

(Of course Britain didn't think of Canada first. Nor did he need help dividing up taxes. Still, it should say something that he tried to fix whatever happened between them.)

_It was such a nice day. Clear blue skies with not a cloud in them, warm enough to make one sleepy, but not enough to be unbearably hot out. It should have been raining, Canada wanted it to rain so badly. In the rain, it would have been easier to hide hid tears from the other. In the rain, it would feel proper to mourn._

_America would never want anyone to be sad on such a beautiful day, but he was gone, so his opinion shouldn't have counted. Funerals were meant to be cried at. Canada shouldn't have had to cry out all his tears beforehand. It shouldn't have been seen as an act of oppression to cry for his brother, now gone forever._

"Okay, now that we've wrapped that up, I want to talk to you about something important." Britain's eyes sparked with... Something. Canada wasn't sure what, but he knew that it probably wasn't good. "I know that some have been upset at my choices recently, and I want to mend that. So, I'm going to have all of my colonies start living at my house."

A soft gasp emitted from Canada. "Oh, really? Are you sure it's a good idea?" He asked, trying to cause doubt. "I mean, what if-"

"Canada." The Brit held up a hand. "This isn't a request. You ought to start packing your bags, I want you to leave with me as soon as possible." He sighed, and asked in a softer voice, "Please, don't make a big fuss."

For a moment, Britain looked like the man who'd go over to his house just to yell at Big Brother France for a few hours. For a moment, Britain didn't look like the stranger he had become to everyone. For a moment, it looked like Britain hadn't ordered the death of his favorite brother.

And maybe, that is why Canada agreed without putting up a fight. Because, just for a moment, Britain looked human again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small time skip later, and Canada tries to be the guardian angel for two young nations. Only his guilt and environment makes that harder then it should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of "To End This Way" by Ersatz Writer. I was given permission to write this. I don't own Hetalia. (Or some parts of this idea.)

Canada stared into the mirror, silently speaking to his reflection. The door creaked open, as a man poked his head in.

"'Ello there, Canada." The redhead smiled and opened the door the rest of the way. "Hope I'm not bein' a bother, but breakfast ought to be ready soon."

Canada turned and faced him. "Don't worry Scotland, I wasn't doing anything important." The blond gave a weak smile as he rubbed his amethyst eyes. "I was just fixing my hair. Why would you be a bother to me? You've been fantastic to me and-"

"Canada. Yer ramblin' again." Scotland cover a the few feet between them with his prideful stride and clasped a hand on the teen's shoulder. "If you feel that bad, Ah can cover for you. I'm sure that the boys wouldn't mind spending the day with me."

The aforementioned teen looked up. "Why wouldn't I be fine? Everything's fine, nothing's wrong, what you make you think anything's wrong?" He asked in a shrill voice, then winced at how he sounded to himself. "... Is it really that noticeable?" He hesitated before asking.

"Naw, only people who'll notice will be the ones that actually know you, laddie. Now head up and chin out, because we've got a meal to eat." Canada barely had time to process the words before the two devils of the household came bouncing in.

"Canada, Scotland! Everyone is waiting for you two! Aren't you hungry? I'm hungry, but we're not allowed to say grace until everyone's at the table!" Australia's shouts echoed off the wall while New Zealand stood off the the side, nodding in agreement. The two boys had come into Britain's care some years before, and since the nation was to busy running an empire to properly raise two hyperactive children, the boys were often watched by Canada.

"Of course _enfants_!" Canada grinned, despite how he was feeling. "Now, how about we hurry up and not keep them waiting any longer." In turn, the boys saved Canada from himself. That was the thing about children, they make people realize how not important problems because children are selfish brats. It's not their fault, it's just the way the universe is.

Breakfast was a boring and dull thing. Thankfully for once in his life, Australia manged to read the mood and somehow inferred not to make trouble. New Zealand thankfully was the kind of child that would act out rebelliously, but only if someone else started it. Scotland didn't make any kind of comments about kilts, sheep, or a combination of the two. Ireland was too busy nursing a hangover from the night prior to actually be use(les) for anyone, and Wales... Wales was being quiet and overall just acting like she normally did. (There was all the other colonies there of course, but Canada didn't know most of them.)

If would have been perfect if Canada did not spend a disturbing about of time starring his eggs down. But no one could really blame him. It was a touchy day for the young man.

"Chap, are you alright?" It was Britain. ' _Damm him, damm the dammed Brit to hell and back. It's not fair,_ ' thought Canada.

"Yes. I am fine, just a little tired." Lying was second nature. It was too simple to slip a smile here, raise his voice a tad there, and in the end, the results would please both parties. It was sinfully easy to weave a tale.

Still, Britain looked down worriedly. That was a sensible thing to do of course, seeing as what day it was. "Canada... I want you take a few hours to yourself today. This is an order, and I expect you to obey it. Do you understand?" Even thought the words themselves were kind, Britain's voice was cold, perhaps cold enough to make Iceland look warm and loving.

(Canada was once friends with Iceland. It was because Denmark used to bring his family along when Britain needed to discuss trade, or renew treaties. The two boys had formed a sort of friendship over time, but the Britain had a 'talk' to Denmark about 'personal' matters. Then, Iceland stopped coming over, and without any way to communicate, their friendship fell apart.)

Canada nodded, "Of course sir. I completely understand, you can count on me, eh?" The tone of the younger man's voice was just as harsh, perhaps even more so. The following minutes are a silence, except for the sound and forks bumping into plates, and food being chewed.

"Excuse me, Britain?" Australia chooses to interrupt the beautiful almost-silence, "Why is Canada getting the day off?" Everyone else froze, Canada heard the sound of silverware clattering to the plates, but it didn't matter. The universe seemed to pause, just waiting for Britain to make his move.

"Australia?" "Yes sir?" "For being impetuous, there will be a punishment."

At that, the boy's jaw fell open as he tried to make amends for the unknown sin he had committed, "Please! Britain, I'm sorry! I don't need to be punished! I'm sorry, I promise! I won't do it ever again, I swear! I prom-"

"Promises are nothing more then empty words that waste air." Britain's fist echoed from hitting the table. "Pain, however, lasts. So your punishment is no meals for the rest of the day and ten whips. Don't make make me go up to fifteen." Rebuttal was quick and harsh.

"Yes sir," Australia hung his head, "I understand, sir."

' _Punishment for trying to learn about his world. What a perfect way to ruin a life. Oh he truly did a number on good ol' Britain, didn't you?_ ' Canada mulled the concept over in his mind.

~~~Line Break~~~

Canada keeled before the stone. "Good morning, Brother." He said in a tone that could be considered emotionless, but the tear running down his cheek betrayed that. "Isn't it a beautiful day? I wish you were here to see it, but alas, it appears that you're sleeping late again." A dark chuckle escaped from his lips. "Anyway, I've come to wish you a happy birthday. I've even brought flowers." He laid a mixed bouquet of harebell and anemone down before the unforgiving stone. _(Note to self: both flowers mean regret/sadness.)_

"You know, at breakfast, Britain told us that promises are nothing more then empty words. I don't believe him though. I think he just doesn't have a good experience with them, you know?" Canada shook with a small, silent sob. "Oh yes, that's right I don't think I've told you... He doesn't want to be called England anymore. He thinks that Britain is more imposing on us. I don't mind that anymore though, I did at first though. But now I have scars. Scars which tell me not to care about names. Because names are just a words you know? And words are just empty things that take up space, right?"

"I'm sorry though. I'm so, so, _so_ sorry. But I don't think you'd want me to mope around forever, would you? You'd just hit me or make a joke. That's why I've stopped coming to visit you so often. I'll still do it, but there's people who need me. My people need me to live in the present. There's children that need me to be there for them. Remember when I told you about Australia and New Zealand? They're still about the same age as last time I visited, maybe a little older though... Sometimes, I'm afraid that they're going to be children forever. That they'll never grow up, but instead just get so used to being under someone's thumb..." A hand was raised to muffle a sob that couldn't be silenced.

"But your people need me too. I've been keeping an eye on them. It's getting worse there. Taxes are raised, more little revolts break out, Britain sends more soldier's to take care of it, taxes are raised to take care of the expenses of sending soldier's across the sea and whatnot. Sounds like hell, eh? I've even heard that the Boston Bay has turned red, since the cemeteries' have run out of ground to bury the bodies, so the poor folk just toss in into the bay. I remember my promise though... It will get better, your people will thrive. I swear to God, I will make it happen." Canada stood, and cased one last long look at the headstone before walking back to the mansion. (Or was it a prison? Canada had a tendency to forget which it was.)

**America**

**Beloved Brother, Brave Warrior, Free Till the End**

For Canada, today just happened to be July 4.

_"One day Brother... I promise you that I will free your people..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm really happy that so many people reviewed/favorited/followed on the first chapter! I hope that I don't disappoint any of you. I want to add that the flowers that were mentioned mean regret/sadness. (I should know. I looked it up myself.) Also, the French word 'enfants' means children. Or at least that's what Google Translate told me.  
> Don't forget to leave a kudos and subscribe!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of "To End This Way" by Ersatz Writer. I was given permission to write this. I don't own Hetalia. (Or concept of this idea.)

"New Zealand, go get me the medicine, will you? Australia, stop wiggling around! I need to clean and wrap it!" Canada gently scolded the boy, who was laying on his stomach, writhing in pain. New Zealand nodded, and disappeared. The boy wanted to help, but at the same time, he didn't want to be there any longer then he had to be.

"Please, can't we skip cleaning it. It hurts when you clean it!" The room was light, airy, and large, with a several cabinets filled with various types of medicine, and a clean cot in a corner. Australia was lying face down on it, vainly attempting to win a losing battle. The poor child's back was covered in angry red welts, making sickening patterns with thin, faint white lines, all up against a tan background.

Canada sighed, after all there wasn't much to be done about the pain. Of course the household did have drugs such as rum and opium, but those were things that Canada felt uncomfortable giving those to a child. "Here, bit down on this. It'll help." Australia reluctantly took a spare towel from him as New Zealand returned, with the needed medicine in had. Which was promptly shoved a breath away from his face.

"Really? I understand you're a child, but couldn't you have said something?" Canada asked, shaking his head back and forth, a bitter smiles etched upon his face. New Zealand shrugged, and waved the bottle in the air.

New Zealand didn't talk to almost anyone. It wasn't that he was mute, he just was to shy (or terrified) to talk to anybody but Australia. Though if someone else was in the room he would whisper his thoughts to the elder boy who would respond back. Aside from that, he seemed to be as normal as any boy could be in their situation, even a bit cheerful. Perhaps that was just his way to deal with his lot in life.

"Okay, I'm going to start to clean the wound, okay?" A nod later, and muffled screams could be heard through the doorway.

Once the cleaning was done, New Zealand leaned down to his friend and whispered something into his ear. In response, Australia lifted his head up and glared, "Zee, I don't care if my back looks like a quilt. Everything hurts. I just wanna go to bed." Forest green eyes filled with tears. "I didn't even get to finish breakfast this morning. I'm hungry."

"Now, now, Aussie, I need you to be a grown up right now. I know it hurts, but you need to tell me what happened." Canada interrupted, wearing a stoic mask. Britain never personally attended the punishments, but instead humans would give them out. It was always possible that...

... No. Canada was sure _that_ would never happen. But what if the human didn't stop at ten whips? What if Australia decided to talked back again, and the human just decided to hurt the child in a different way? Millions upon millions of thoughts like those raced in Canada's mind. What if-

"I was whipped ten times. Trust me, I counted. I didn't even pass out this time too! ... That is a good thing, right? Canada?" Thank goodness. If anything happened to the boys, Canada couldn't image what he would do.

While Canada was about to cause himself a panic attack, his hands wrapped the injured boy's torso, helped him stand up, and made sure both children were paying attention to himself.

"Aussie, Zee, listen to me. Don't ever draw Britain's attention to yourself, do you understand? I don't care what's it about, I need you two to stop doing it. Promise me you will." Canada's voice took a hard, metallic tone it it.

"But Britain says promises are nothing more then empty words." New Zealand nodded, with worry etched upon both of their faces. That wasn't their Canada, who would help them feel better, sneak desserts, or read bedtime stories. This was a scary Canada, one that was as scared as they were.

"Promise me." Haunted violet eyes peered into their souls. "I need you both to promise me. I don't want either of you to get hurt again, understand me?"

The almost brunette stood on his tiptoes and whispered into the true brunette's ear. "Zee says he promises too. And I promise too, Canada. Or, at least I'll try to." Australia hastily added on.

Canada grabbed the boys, pulling them into a tight embrace. "Th-Thank you." He said plainly, with tear rolling down his face. It may have been weak for him to cry, but he couldn't lose them.

~~~Line Break~~~

The months had flown past, turning a full bloomed summer into a withering fall. The zephyrs were at it, and the sun was out. Dying green-brown lawn rolled along until a hansom brick wall cut it off. The wall penned in an even taller mansion, practically a castle. The only way in or out of the mansion was to walk through intimidating iron gates. There were trees of course, but they were planted and trimmed in such a way so it would be impossible to be used for climbing over.

From the outside, the estate looked like heaven. Unfortunately, appearances lie and the estate was truly hell for all those who lived on it. But life is woe, and a nation's life is no different.

"Eh, Australia, where's New Zealand?" Canada looked up from the book he was enjoying to inquire about one of his charges. Another soft breeze passed by, barely noticeable, but still sending shivers down spines.

Australia looked around, confusion apparent on his face. "Drat. I knew we should have gotten a cowbell for him! But you said that's be silly, and losing him was a rare occurrence! Even though it happens all the time! I told you so!" Australia dropped from of the tree he was climbing and starting calling around for New Zealand.

"Yes, I did say no. Mainly because of the look of horror and shame on his face when you suggested it. And stop climbing the trees. You'll hurt yourself." Canada rubbed his temples while sighing. A child who was for all intends and purposes mute, did tend to disappear easily. Perhaps a cowbell would have been a good idea after all.

Canada and Australia continued to call for the missing child in a similar manner for almost an hour, but to no avail. It was an oft occurrence unfortunately, but was could be done about it? New Zealand couldn't get off the grounds, and he'd always appeared later. "Australia, go tell Scotland that we misplaced your playmate again." It would be better off to warn a few other to keep a lookout for the missing child. After all, what if Britain found the child breaking a rule and New Zealand injured himself as a result? Children were clumsy, delicate things; it would be a true shame if one was _damaged_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the new chapter. It's actually already been written up for awhile, I just kinda sorta forgot it existed.
> 
> Not much else to add, but where the heck did New Zealand go?
> 
> Is it actually important to the plot?
> 
> Should you leave a review and a kudos? (Yes, you should. In fact, you ought to do that now.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this! I've been working on this for for a little less then seven months! I'm not finished, but I do have a four of five or the chapters done, and everything's been plotted out. I'm not going to be using a specific era, but the general setting is around the Victorian Era or sometime after. I hope you enjoyed this!


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